


And the rhythm made by my broken bones

by Itherael



Series: Shall we Dance? [4]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, The bloody dance continues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itherael/pseuds/Itherael
Summary: She moves gracefully, like an enchantress, a ballerina (Odile, the black swan, the black feathers dripping with his blood). He knows however, that she’s nothing but a poisonous snake.And the melody of your screams, in Amon's POV.





	And the rhythm made by my broken bones

**Author's Note:**

> This was, once again, a response to the lovely tags left by Juli (which I have already mentioned, will kill me one of these days) and I really wanted to play with Amon a bit more...

Everything hurts.

His whole body is protesting, begging him to stop and let her win, but he’s stubborn, he’s not going to show her how broken he is. His mind is now a terrifying place, the nightmares and her voice are overwhelming, but the only companions he has in his captivity.

She’s taunting him, poking his weak spots to find his breaking point. But there’s no reason to let her know she has already won, that he’s nothing but a broken husk of the man he used to be, that the deep wounds of his soul have now become jaded, eternal scars on his very soul. But they remain hidden from her eyes, and Amon would prefer if they remain that way until there’s no breath left on him.

His heart is thundering in his ears, and the crack of his broken bones create a weird sort of melody, a melody that only the two of them can hear and dance to it.

She moves gracefully, like an enchantress, a ballerina ( _Odile, the black swan, the black feathers dripping with his blood_ ). He knows however, that she’s nothing but a poisonous snake.

(But he also knows that she’s just as broken as he is. She’s nothing but someone as lost as he is, trying to find what she was denied when she was a mere child, and she pities her for it.

As much as he pities himself for the same reason)

He’s not as graceful as she is, impossible given for someone of his built, but somehow, somehow he manages to keep up. The grace of a fighter, of someone who trained his body to the limit.

She seems distracted by something, a distant look in her eyes, and he has to take advantage for that. He grabs her hand and pushes her towards him. Amon hears her sharp intake of breath, and he hates himself, _hates himself_ because he knows how she’s going to react for that.

The smirk was something expected, as much as her teasing words.

_(Hearing her bones cracking under his arm is so disgustingly satisfying, but he’s beyond the point of being scared of his own thoughts)_

He tries, tries to crush her, she’s so thing and vulnerable in his arms, but a small voice in his head begs him to not do it (He convinces himself that the voice was just trying to prevent him of becoming a monster like her, _he is already a monster, more blood, **her blood** is not going to make a difference now_, and that it wasn’t saying… something else). He’s conflicted, because he can’t,  _he shouldn’t feel anything for a monster like her_. But both of them are monsters now, and he can’t, he can’t kill her. He curses his heart for feeling something else alongside that hate.

He lets her go, and he can see how much she hates him for it.  _Now that the toy has won some freedom, how does that feel, uh?_

When she proposes a new dance, he agrees, almost too fast. Their bloody dancing is the only thing that helps him remain sane.

He swears, he’s going to escape this hell. And bury any kind of sympathy he has for her.

_(Or what he tries to convince himself is only sympathy)_

**Author's Note:**

> [iterael](http://iterael.tumblr.com) @ tumblr


End file.
